


Pas de Deux

by Nyssa23



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Espionage, Gen, Male Friendship, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyssa23/pseuds/Nyssa23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odo and Garak getting to know each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emiline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/gifts).



> Set between the events of "The Die is Cast" and "The Way Of The Warrior." All characters and trademarks belong to their respective owners. Many thanks, always, to @jammer427 for inspiration.

In his years on Terok Nor, Odo had come to understand that Cardassians were skilled in a way that few other races were at the art of interrogation--and, he understood, torture, although the Cardassians were very careful not to involve him in any such cases. After all, he'd only been an observer and investigator on the station in those days, hardly the sort of person with whom the Cardassian officers would have felt they had to clear any decisions. So he didn't believe for a moment that there hadn't been anything else that Garak could have used against Odo to make him talk. As a member of the Obsidian Order, Garak would have had access to all of Dr. Mora Pol's files from the Bajoran Institute of Science, would have known the things Mora had done to make Odo respond back when Odo had been simply " _odo'ital_ ," the container of unknown organic liquid found in the Denorios Belt. Garak had held back for a reason, had insisted on being the only one in the room with Odo, had pleaded with Odo to tell him something--even lies--and had ultimately spared his life, and Odo found that intriguing. 

So he stopped by the ruins of Garak's shop and invited Garak to have breakfast with him sometime. Then Odo walked away, pleased that he had once again seen a look of surprise in Garak's eyes.

***

Elim Garak stood absolutely still, watching Odo leave. He knew he was playing what might turn out to be a dangerous game with the Changeling. The old Garak, he knew, would have recommended to Tain that Odo be killed the moment it became clear that the Changeling had no new information to divulge. 

However, these days, Garak believed that taking the occasional risk was good for relieving the ennui brought on by his long years of exile. He and Odo had that much in common--it seemed Odo himself lived in a sort of perpetual exile, having never known what it was to live among his own people. And Odo _had_ saved his life, even if he'd used a bit more force than necessary in the act. 

Garak ran his hand over where the bruise had been and permitted himself a small smile as he continued assessing the damage to his tailor shop.

***

A few days later, with repairs well underway at the shop, Garak was sitting down to breakfast in the Replimat when he noticed Odo heading towards him, PADD in hand.

"Garak." As usual, it was a statement rather than a question. Garak had grown accustomed to the small talk and circumlocutions of Humans and Bajorans, and there was something about Odo's direct and unadorned speech patterns that Garak found, at times, aesthetically pleasing. "I hope you won't mind if I join you."

"Of course not, Constable," Garak said smoothly. "As a matter of fact, you're just in time. I'm having something different this morning: a Human meal Dr. Bashir keeps insisting I try. It's called an English breakfast, after the old nation-state of England on Earth, although I believe these foods are also obtainable elsewhere on Earth." He regarded the crowded plate with a bemused glance. "Do, please, sit down."

Odo inclined his head slightly and sat down at the table. He placed the PADD gently in front of him. "Don't let me interrupt you. I just wanted to ask how the repairs are coming along."

"Very well, thank you." Garak placed a small piece of sausage in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. "I appreciate Commander Sisko's allowing me some Federation personnel to help. As you can imagine, trying to hire a Bajoran crew might have proved--problematic--for me." 

Odo nodded. "I recommended to the commander that he do so. Someone's got to keep an eye on what's going into that new shop of yours." 

Garak smiled as he sipped his Tarkalean tea. "I simply can't fathom what you mean, Constable. What could possibly be going into an ordinary tailor's shop besides a few pieces of equipment, some bolts of cloth--"

"I'm glad you mentioned that equipment." Odo's eyes narrowed slightly as he picked up the PADD and punched up a document. "What need could an _ordinary_ tailor's shop possibly have for a crate of self-sealing stem bolts?"

Carefully and deliberately, Garak chewed and swallowed a piece of fried egg before answering. "Constable, when customers come to my shop, they expect a certain level of...craftsmanship. Those stem bolts are vital to have around in case my measuring sensors or stitching tables stop functioning. If a daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed asks me for alterations, I can't very well simply pop her gown into an industrial replicator." 

"Hmph. I suppose not." 

Garak peered closely at Odo to see if he betrayed any surprise at the mention of Ambassador Troi, who had so obviously tried to seduce him and with whom he had once been trapped in a turbolift, but saw none. Fascinating. 

Odo scrolled through a few more reports on the PADD while Garak sampled a few of the fried mushrooms on the plate. Their smoky flavor reminded him of a snack food popular in the area near the Cardassian embassy on Romulus, where Garak had once worked as a gardener. A proconsul of the Romulan senate, Merrok, had quite unfortunately died after eating a poisoned portion of it. Garak considered mentioning this to Odo, but decided that it would make an entertaining anecdote for another time.

Odo looked up from the PADD again. "I would also like to ask you why you've been dealing with Quark so much lately."

Garak glanced at Odo innocently. "Surely there's no objection to my having the occasional drink in Quark's. One does have to be sociable on occasion." 

"Perhaps. But I'm referring to the shipments you've received from him lately."

"Some cloth, a few _objets d'art_ , nothing more. Regardless of your opinion of the Ferengi, he does have a way of obtaining rare and beautiful items. Going through the Federation quartermaster to request a few self-sealing stem bolts is one thing, but I doubt anyone in that department would know where and how to procure a bolt of Tholian silk."

Odo set the PADD down. "I see your point." Nobody would ever accuse Quark of having good taste, but he definitely knew how to make a deal. Odo looked down at the Cardassian's plate with curiosity. "Are you enjoying your breakfast?"

Garak set down his fork; he had tried everything on the plate, but hadn't finished anything except the mushrooms. "It certainly is quite a lot of food. Humans may not always understand the niceties of a civilized meal, but they do know how to keep one's belly full. And anyway, the most important part of a meal is the company." He smiled at the Changeling across the table.

Odo nodded slowly, acknowledging the compliment. "Well, Garak, if you'll excuse me, I really should get back to my rounds." Odo rose to leave, then stopped and turned back to Garak. The look on his face was not unlike a smile. "I hope we can do this again sometime?"

"I look forward to it, Constable." 

Garak smiled benignly over his mug of tea. The station really was a much more interesting place with Odo on board.


End file.
